It always happens to her. At some point, she’ll finally get some new bras and underpants where she falls in love with a specific few. Then the brand seems to decide to drop them later and replace them with something that turns out to be scratchy, too stretchy, designed for potatoes or just vaguely lamer somehow.

I’m a man and don’t quite have the same give-a-sh*tness, but I can understand that bras and closer-fitting undergarments present vastly more complications than men’s underthings.

She and I always make a mental note to go get more before this happens, but we’re parents. Mental notes often get blown out the window in the whirlwind of parental responsibilities.

I know I need to remember the next time she says she loves something, to go out and buy a crate of them and make them into a bouquet of undies. She’d seriously tear up like the syrupiest Hallmark ad.

““

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